The Girl Who Waited
by agirlwithkaleidoscopeyes
Summary: Amelia Pond spent her youth waiting for the raggedy man who promised her freedom from the coldness of reality to return. Soon enough, she managed to convince herself he had never existed in the first place. But then, twelve years later, he returns; her only escape from the world that confines her to reality.
1. Prologue

**Note: So, this is my attempt at a Doctor Who fanfic. The story itself will concentrate on the 11th Doctor and Amelia Pond. It is a love story, but Amy will be torn between Rory and the Doctor. Set at the very beginning of the series, before anything has happened.**

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_Prologue_

The air was cold but the night sky was filled with stars. The young girl sat on top of the worn brown leather suitcase, used only for unexpected journeys; used only for nights like these. Her breath turned to smoke almost as soon as it had escaped her lungs. She sat very still and very patiently, barely concentrating on the time that passed; the seconds that turned into minutes that would very soon become hours. But the young girl did not stir. In her mind she could still clearly visualise the strange dark blue box that had somehow succeeded in countering time itself. And, of course, the raggedy man who had disappeared inside of it.  
As the sky above began to lighten, the girl's chest became heavy with the dull ache of broken promises and shattered dreams. Ten minutes, he had told her. And he had not returned.  
All her life she had never known freedom. She had lived in the little house with her aunt for as long as she could remember and had consequently known nothing of the rest of the world. And this man, the strange man who wore a bow-tie and a smile tinted with amusement, had given her hope. Promised escape. She had never been a girl to believe in fairytales. The dreams of fantasy and escapism were drained down the plughole when her parents died. But that was before; before she had witnessed a man falling from the sky in nothing more than an tattered police box, with peeling dark blue paint and a distorted blur of amber lights.  
In the early hours of the morning, when the sunlight began to filter through the trees, she finally arose from where she had sat patiently all night. She did not take the suitcase with her, simply left it where it lay amongst a pile of fallen leaves. She walked silently across the path and into the house, closing the door behind her, and ascended the stairs to her bedroom where she fell into a dreamless sleep.  
She had given up. She knew that she would never explore the solar system, see the stars or discover new planets. She knew that she would never see the raggedy man again; despite his promise, he would never come back.  
For a moment, just one moment, the whole world had lit up.  
But now it lay in darkness once again.


	2. Chapter 1

**Note: So here is Chapter One. Hopefully I do the greatness that is Doctor Who justice. The story itself is supposed to be set before anything has happened. So Amy has met the Doctor when she was little but has not seen him since. It's kind of like my own interpretation of the first episode. Thanks for reading and please review to let me know if I should update!**

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Amelia Pond lay beneath the oak tree and watched the sunlight turn each individual leaf into a single strand of gold. Rory sat beside her, though somehow he could not have seemed further away. There was a book in his hands and he seemed completely lost in the words it contained.

"Rory."  
"Hmmm?" He glanced momentarily in her direction before his eyes once again found the pages of his book.  
Amy sighed heavily, his oblivion igniting a spark of irritance within her. "It's twelve o'clock, Rory, you've been reading for hours. Aren't you bored?"  
Rory shook his head and, as if to prove his point further, turned a page. "How could you ever get bored of reading?" He asked, genuinely baffled. "Books are wonderful."  
Amy rolled her eyes. "I acknowledge the greatness of books, Rory, I just don't wish to spend hours sitting around reading them all day while the rest of the world goes by."  
He uttered a response in the form of a grunt and continued to read. Amy sighed again and, despite aware of the fact he was most probably too lost in his own thoughts to listen, continued to speak.  
"I'm so tired of watching the world live and not _living_." She murmured. "I want to experience something; I want an adventure."  
Rory chuckled under his breath. "Amy, I adore books as much as the next person but I think we can both agree that the 'adventures' they contain should remain firmly inside of them."  
"Adventures don't have to be trapped inside books."  
Rory shook his head and this action alone only succeeded in lighting the spark within her even more. "I don't think so, Amy." He said, softly. "Sometimes, however much we wish to venture elsewhere, the only option we have is to live in reality."  
"Live in reality?" Amy shook her head angrily. "Unlike you, Rory, I don't think I can spend the rest of my life in Leadworth with an undignified career and no sense of fulfillment."  
She got up from where she had been lying and began to walk somewhere. Anywhere. Rory, finally distracted from the pages of his book, quickly followed.  
"No sense of fulfillment?" He found himself having to jog to keep up with her. "What's that supposed to mean? And what exactly is wrong with Leadworth?"  
"It's _boring_, Rory." She answered, without bothering to turn around.  
"Undignified career?" He frowned, still struggling to maintain her fast pace. "It's a perfectly noble profession."  
Suddenly and finally, she turned to face him. Rory was thankful, stopping shortly and taking the opportunity to catch his breath.  
"I'm a _kissogram_, Rory." A few strands of her hair got caught in the wind as she spoke, as if to emphasise her frustration further.  
"I like your job." He said, a touch of hurt prominent in his voice.  
"Why on earth would you like it?" Amy snapped, impatiently. "I get paid to kiss people other than you; any normal person would be jealous."  
"It's quirky." Rory answered. "It suits you."  
Amy exhaled heavily, draining her lungs of air, and then began to walk very quickly again. She was aware that she was being cruel to Rory. It wasn't fair - after all, it wasn't _his_ fault that she had become so bored of her life. He was Rory and he was lovely and she was in _love_ with him and that was supposed to be their life together but she couldn't contain the overwhelming sense of longing that crept over her heart on days like these. She longed to get lost in a different world and explore but mostly, above everything else, she just wanted to escape.  
"Amy, should I leave you alone?" Rory called after her, becoming little more than a blurred figure in the distance. It seemed her fast walking pace finally had succeeded in distancing herself from him completely. "I can leave you alone for a while, if that's what you want."  
Amy did not reply. Her eyes were elsewhere; attention lost entirely to the sky above. A shadow had crossed the sun momentarily. The world had darkened and then restored its light almost immediately. To any average person, this sight would probably have been missed. But Amy saw it. And then she saw it again. This time, as the world was bathed in darkness for just a fleeting second, a cloud above became illuminated by blue light.  
"That's not possible..." She whispered, but her words got lost in the wind.  
The sky darkened and the air became cold, so cold that her breath escaped her lungs in gasps of smoke. A single fragment of lightening broke through the ink canvas of the sky. Amy turned but found nobody in sight. Even Rory was nowhere to be seen. He must have given up calling her and returned home. She felt her heart fall. Another bolt of lightening broke through the clouds. Amy could no longer breathe. It was as if all the air had suddenly been knocked out of her lungs. And then it appeared. It was like nothing she had even seen before, but perhaps she only thing she could possibly have compared it to was the sight of light shining through rain. Distant and blurred and distorted, but undeniably visible. It was dark and shadowed but falling closer to earth every second. She wondered if it was a star that had fallen to earth. Or perhaps a comet. Perhaps this was the end of the world. Amy bit her lip. She had wished for an adventure...but this was simply the end.  
"I'm sorry, Rory." She whispered under her breath, as the comet approached. "I...I..."  
Amy did not get the chance to speak again. Any possible words she might have been able to utter were lost to the sudden trembling shudder of the ground beneath her feet. Losing her balance she fell, and could only watch in horror as the comet burst into flames as it hit the ground. She was going to die, she was sure of it. Any moment now...this was, no doubt, the end.  
Only, it wasn't. When the ground finally ceased to shake and the air grew still and Amy became aware of the rhythm of her own breath again, she opened her eyes cautiously. She expected to find the earth in tatters; the sky to be a crescendo of colour and the world around her to be in a state of apolocolyptic destruction but instead all she could see was smoke. Curiosity stifling her disorientation, she shakily brought herself to her feet and tried to make sense out of the fog that now infiltrated the air. Through it, she could just about make out the flicker of amber light. Fire. And the smell of burnt smoke; the kind of Autumn scent that comforted her, reminded her of bonfires.  
"Blimey!"  
Amy's heart froze. Was that really a voice she had heard emerging from the depths of the fog? Surely not. Perhaps she really had died and the world had shaken her into a permanant dream where everything felt real and everything looked real but nothing actually was real. Perhaps...  
"Hello? Anyone there?"  
Amy wasn't imagining. Or dreaming. She shook her head, as if to shake the madness out of her thoughts, but the voice continued to echo through the air. From the thick smoke that permeated the air emerged a shadowed figure, obscured almost entirely by darkness. Amy inhaled sharply, turning momentarily to find something to protect herself - anything at all - but found nothing. She realised that she voice had stopped calling and turned slowly, her heart quivering.  
"Ah, yes. You. You'll do nicely."  
The shadowed figure was not in fact a figment of her imagination, but a person. A man. A strange man. Amy frowned. She was quite unlike what she had been expecting...though what she had been expecting exactly she was not entirely sure of. He wore a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches and a checked shirt with...was that a bow tie? His hair was messy and unkempt, dark brown in colour, as if he had been continuously raking his hands through it. He was certainly an odd looking man and appeared to be smiling at her, as if greeting an old friend.  
"I'm sorry," Amy shook her head, almost feeling disorientated. "Did you just...fall from the sky?"  
The man paused for a moment, glanced behind him, and then promptly nodded. "Yes, yes I believe I did."  
The thick smoke was beginning to fade into the cold air. Amy looked past the strange man to what lay beyond him. Standing amongst the mist was a police box, the kind of old police box you might find in an old black and white film. When she inspected it more closely, she saw that its paint was peeling. Amy closed her eyes for a moment, as if to collect her thoughts. _No_, she thought, _it can't be. It can't possibly be._  
"Well," He said, following her bewildered gaze. "My box fell from the sky."  
"Box?" Amy questioned, feeling faint.  
"TARDIS." He corrected himself. "Anyway, if you wouldn't mind, I do require some assistance."  
"Assistance?"  
"Yes, assistance." The corners of his mouth turned up into a half-smile. "Do you always repeat words?"  
Amy shook her head, still too shocked to fathom full sentences.  
"Well, come along then, Pond." The odd man turned and disappeared into the fog, though this voice echoed behind him. "We need to get going."  
"_Pond_?" She knew now that she had no choice but to follow him. The fog caused her to choke slightly but soon enough she emerged, finding herself standing directly in front of the mysterious police box and the raggedy man that had fallen from the sky.  
"There you are," The man smiled, knowingly. "You're doing it again."  
"I don't think, considering the circumstances, you can really blame me." Amy snapped, a spark of irritance overwhelming her fear.  
"Circumstances?" He raised an eyebrow. Amy resisted the urge to triumphantly inform him that he had done exactly the same as she had.  
"Yes, circumstances." She said, impatiently. "You fall from the sky in your...your strange little box and then tell me that you 'require my assistance'."  
"Strange little box?" He draped an arm around the police box. "This, my friend, is not just a box. It's a TARDIS and it has ears; it can hear you insulting it."  
Amy snorted. "I highly doubt that."  
He glared at her, pouted, and traced the wood with his fingertips protectively. "Don't listen to her, gorgeous; you have many fine qualities."  
Amy stared at him in disbelief. "Who _are_ you?"  
The man stared at her and Amy could not help but notice the unmistakable hurt that flooded through his eyes.  
"You..." His brow furrowed. "You don't remember me?"  
She bit her lip and stared down at the floor, anywhere to avoid the sadness in his eyes. "I don't _want_ to remember you."  
"Why on earth would you say a thing like that?" His voice was tinted with pain, as if her words physically bruised him.  
"Because it's true," She cried. "I can't remember you. I can't believe in you again. I...I just can't."  
"You don't believe in me?" He spoke very quietly, as if he hoped that the words themselves would simply evaporate into the air completely.  
"No," Amy whispered, though her words were worn with pretence. "I don't."  
The strange raggedy man straightened himself, adjusted his bow-tie, and took a deep breath before exhaling heavily. She watched him, unable to contain her concern.  
"Are you...alright?" She asked.  
He smiled at her, but it was a ghost of the smile he had given her earlier. This smile was weary with sadness and disappointment. It masked his despair.  
"I'm wonderful," He said, a little too brightly. "Just wonderful."  
He turned and walked to the box he had called the 'TARDIS' - Amy was still unaware of what exactly the letters stood for. The doors were flung open and suddenly, though she could not determine her feelings at all, Amy felt a strong sense of overwhelming desperation that clutched her heart.  
"Where are you going?" She called after him, her voice betraying a tone of urgency.  
"Back." The man answered, simply, without turning back.  
"You...you don't have to go." Amy murmured, her words sounding weak even to her own ears.  
"I should though." He said and, finally, turned to meet her gaze again. This time, he smiled; a wistful smile. "Goodbye again, Amelia Pond."  
Before Amy could speak, the doors had slammed shut. A strange sound filled the air, grating and impossible to ignore though almost melodic as its volume began to slowly decrease. With horror, she realised that the paint was slowly beginning to lighten; the lights beginning to blur; the box itself beginning to fade away.  
"_No_!" She cried, though she already knew her words were useless. As she watched the box fade away completely into the darkness of the grey sky, all she could do was whisper: "Don't leave me again."


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Thanks for the reviews so far, they've been lovely. Please keep reviewing, I really appreciate it. If you like Sherlock, have a read of my other Fanfic.**

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The Doctor attempted to concentrate on the control panel before him, but his mind was in chaos. The Doctor's mind was not like the minds of other mere human beings; his was not grey and dull and ordinary, but filled with colour, like a firework exploding amongst the darkness. Now, his thoughts quivered like scared butterflies as they flew in every direction and latched onto every inch of his being and refused his mind to wander to anything else. He could still see that look in her eyes; the regret. The regret of _seeing_ him again. The regret of ever meeting him at all. That was the worst part, he thought. He could just about cope with not being remembered. But the regret...it made him want to disappear into the darkness of the atmosphere for the rest of eternity.

The TARDIS, by now, was far into the depths of the galaxy. If he peered out of one of the windows he would have been able to see a slither of the atmosphere filled with stars, but he did not care to. To anyone else, the sight might have been wondrous. To the Doctor, it was a vivid emptiness that stretched on for miles. When he saw the stars, he could not think of their beauty but the fact that they were gradually beginning to fade away. He wondered then what Amy might have thought of the sight. He imagined she might gasp in wonder and stare out intently, only to attempt an air of nonchalance just moments later, and smiled at the thought. Soon enough, like the stars soon would, his smile faded.  
It felt like such little time had passed. He could still picture her vividly in his mind as just a little girl. Her auburn hair long and tangled and messy. Untamed, unkempt and uncontrollable. He thought how wonderfully her hair mirrored her personality. She had worn a white night gown, skinny knees pale and patterned with blue-black bruises. He had just completed his regeneration. He had altered. He had been ten different people before the man he was now and yet there she was; in a state of unflawed youth. She was perfect. Everything about her was perfect. And he had been lonely. All he had wanted was some company, somebody to see the stars with. He had promised her. She had said nothing, but he gathered that her childhood had not altogether been a happy one. Why else had she been so eager to join him - a stranger - on his journey through the galaxies? He had promised her and then he had broken that promise. He hadn't meant to; his five-minute "trip" had been just that to him. But, somewhere, something had gone wrong and he had returned to find Amelia Pond - his Amelia Pond - as a fully grown adult. A young woman. She had grown up and now she didn't believe in him anymore.  
The Doctor felt a deep sense of despair clutch his heart tightly, and then cripple it. He was alone. He was completely alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Amy stared at the emptiness that now lay before her. There were no traces of the raggedy man or his dark blue policeman box. It was as if he had never appeared at all. And yet, her heart told her otherwise. Her heart had always been bruised with wanderlust, the restless longing of wanting to explore the world, but now the feeling had numbed to a dull ache which suddenly and inexplicably felt so much worse. The leaves continued to dance with the breeze and the sky remained its washed out grey. Nothing had seemingly altered. And yet, everything had changed.

"Amy!"

It was ridiculous, foolish to get her hopes up, but a small part of her lit up. Just for a moment. He had returned. He hadn't really vanished again.

"Amy!" The voice called again, and this time the light within her heart slowly flickered and then diminished completely. It was not the Doctor, returning, but Rory. Amy wondered why she had expected so differently; it was always Rory. It would always be Rory.

"Amy." He was closer now, struggling between both of the syllables of her name to breathe. He had run all the way. "Didn't you hear me calling?"

Amy shook her head, without turning to face him. She didn't want her disappointment to be confirmed; she couldn't. It was all suddenly too much, as if her heart could burst at any moment.

"Amy?" The repetition of her name caused her to flinch. "Are you…alright?"

She nodded, but her skin was numb as if it had been frozen by ice, and slowly turned to face him. His expression was something that could have been captured perfectly in a painting; concern tinted with confusion, both flooding across his face like an overflown river. In his hands was a crumpled bouquet of wilted dandelions, most probably stolen from a nearby flowerbed. The gesture was so sweet and unexpected that, in that moment, Amy loathed herself for thinking such cruel thoughts.

Following her gaze to his hands, Rory swallowed and handed the flowers to her. "These are for you."

She mustered a faint smile and touched his cheek with her fingertips. She could not bring herself to kiss him. The movement was so fleeting that no longer than a moment later, she had withdrawn her touch completely. Rory attempted to mask the disappointment in his eyes with a smile.

"I hate arguing." He mumbled.

"Me too." Amy said, quietly, her thoughts immediately finding the way the Doctor's face had crumpled in on itself when she had told him in basic words that she wanted nothing to do with him. Her heart ached.

"Come on," Rory said, taking her arm. "Let's go."

Amy shook her head. Her voice was hesitant, even to her own ears. "I…I think I'm just going to go home."

This time, he could not mask his concern. He stared at her, as if trying to read her thoughts. His eyes hopelessly searched hers for some kind of recognition, a pattern or a connection of thoughts he might be able to comprehend, but found nothing.

"Of course," He said, as if he understood. "I'll…see you tomorrow, I suppose. I'm working the early morning shift so I could come and see you at about twelve o'clock? Perhaps one?"

Amy nodded, though her expression was distant. Rory bit his lip, knowing she probably had no intention of keeping her promise, but said nothing.

"Well…goodbye." He was hesitant, awkward suddenly, as if they were fifteen years old all over again and not fully fledged adults who had known each other for a significant part of each others' lives.

He kissed her cheek, uncertainly. Her skin was cold, but he supposed that to be because of the wind. She mumbled a vague "goodbye", though it barely even seemed to register in her mind. Rory turned, pulling his coat collar up against the wind, and began to walk back in the direction he had come. Amy remained some moments longer, to anyone else just a blurred figure standing on the hillside, her gaze lost to the sky.

"Come back," She whispered. "Please come back."

The Doctor had left the world far, far behind. In fact he was quite unsure where he was. It certainly wasn't the galaxy Amelia Pond was in. They were now distanced by a million miles and yet even when they had stood so close to one another, they could not have felt further apart.

The Doctor wanted to go. He wanted to distance himself from the planet Earth completely and get lost in a whole different solar system where his head would not be consumed by thoughts of Amy Pond. And yet, even now surrounded by darkness and an atmosphere filled with stars, his thoughts wandered and found her. He considered attempting to find another companion. Someone else. Someone that wasn't her.

He glanced out of one of the small windows of the TARDIS. Amongst the darkness, small at first, was a glint of light. He watched it curiously for a moment. It had to be a star, there were rarely any other sources of light in an atmosphere such as the one he currently found himself in, and yet this did not look like any other star he had seen before. The TARDIS was moving very slowly through the matter of space. The Doctor liked to travel slowly anyway, but in this case he did not have a choice. This atmosphere contained a lot of pressure. Moving too fast was not an option. If anything, primarily a star or more relevantly a TARDIS, did move fast, it would most probably combust.

The glowing light had increased. It was coming closer and closer. The Doctor stared at it, transfixed, and wondered if perhaps this might be his last moment. It was a foolish thought; the Doctor had survived many numbers of life-threatening incidents, and here he found himself intimidated by a flickering light. But he was disconcerted. Its fast pace startled him, though at the same time ensured that he could not look away.

As it grew closer and closer, the atmosphere began to lighten. Now that the galaxy was no longer enveloped by darkness, the Doctor could see stars he had not been able to see before. Even the blurred shadow of a planet that, obscured by darkness, would have been impossible to see. The fear in the Doctor's heart gradually began to fade, his eyes alight with the excitement a child might possess when watching snow fall on Christmas morning.

"Brilliant!" He exclaimed, despite the fact there was nobody around to hear him.

It was not a star. It was not an impending pit of doom. It was a comet, ablaze with fire. It passed the small window of the TARDIS and lit up the entire atmosphere in a matter of moments. It was fleeting, however, and no sooner as the Doctor had seen it, it was already fading into the depths of the atmosphere the Doctor could not see. No sooner as it had come, the comet had faded and then disappeared completely. But it caused the Doctor to come to a conclusion.

He could not distract himself from his own thoughts. He could not travel to a distant galaxy and attempt to forget. He could not find himself another companion.

It was her; it had always been her.

She was Amelia Pond and she was beautiful and wild and out of control and untameable, much like the fleeting glimpse of the comet he had just witnessed.

He couldn't let go. He'd never let go. And he would never give up on her.


End file.
